At the tail end of this weekend, my mama and I stood in the driveway waving goodbye to our dear old friends that had come down for an incredibly warm and wonderful visit involving a lot of cooking, lolling, eating, wine, and laughing… we were waving until they were out of sight, basking in the surprising late afternoon warmth and marveling at how the light just changes *snap* with dastardly daylight savings time, becomes like amber, crystalline, special. So, we decided to take an impromptu hike, as much to get our blood going and feel the cool breezes on our cheeks before cool becomes downright cold as to get up close and personal with the incredible fall leaf situation that’s happening right now. Per usual, I don’t know if I’m specially attuned to it, or just didn’t notice it before, or whether this year it really does seem more spectacular than ever, but the leaves are almost too much to handle. They are simply incredible. Especially when it’s a last minute thing and you just sort of decided to hike a few miles into the mountains and it just feels like the best luck and most excellent choice-making all in a row. Mama, I love to be here with you.
Oh Adventure! Last weekend we got a wild hair, piled into Francine (Miss Jocie’s mobile… all good cars have names), and made our adventurers way to Storm King Art Center. Five women strong, scarves, leathers, the flush of possibility, (and we picked up Mike, king of beers and collars, on the side of the road), a wrecking crew to make our way. Just an hour north of the city, Storm King is an outdoor sculpture park situated on 500 acres of impeccably swooping jealous-Olmstead wild-meets-barely-tamed earth, dotted with monolithic sculptures. In a word, it is awesome. This time it also happened to be peak leaf season, PEEPINGPEAKING, and everything was suffused with the kind of beauty that you can’t stop talking about, the sheer hush and truth of where you are, who you’re with, how the air feels, how the golden-hour light looks, and the how-if-everything-hadn’t-happened-just-so we wouldn’t be here, but it DID so REVEL IN IT makes you utterly, totally full-hearted and giddy. Storm King is open through November, so get thee there, this weekend, do it. And after you do, order six pulled pork sandwiches and a parcel of tallboys, to go, from Barnstormer’s BBQ. At least that’s what we did. Here, some of the beauty:
You might remember from this post that Sweetheart and I have been searching for change, making T-charts, Venn Diagrams, and complicated lists to try and narrow down our next step, our great leap forward. Or at least sideways. Leaping Somewhere. The space between Country Mouse and City Mouse has been seeming a bit wider every day, City Mouse yearning for space, sweet and quiet, and a little piece of land to call her own, while Country Mouse is still needs City Mouse’s proximity to incredible chinese food and strange DJ light installations in abandoned waterfront warehouses put on by dear friends (seriously, anyone in Brooklyn tonight, go to Nuit Blanche’s Autumn Bowl event tonight in Greenpoint- admission free if you “Bring Your Own Beamer”— beamer=video projector). What are a couple of little ole mice to do? Well, we’re working on it, and in the great machinery of what sweeping change requires, we’re wrangling a lot of moving parts. One of those parts required taking a weekday sabbatical, acquiring a truck from the hasidic rent-a-car on Classon, and rattling upstate for an afternoon adventure to help Sweetheart’s Mama move out of her summers-of-love Woodstock digs. Stay tuned for more City/Country Mouse news, in the meantime, I’ve just got to say: THE LEAVES.